


Maybe Witches Aren't So Bad After All

by CleverLines_Unread_CleverNapkins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, blowjob, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverLines_Unread_CleverNapkins/pseuds/CleverLines_Unread_CleverNapkins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sam's cursed by a witch, Gabriel's in charge of finding a cure. And maybe gets a little carried away. Smutty one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Witches Aren't So Bad After All

**Author's Note:**

> hey, so I promised a friend some Sabriel smut, however, I've never written it before. So, it took me longer than I would have liked to write this, and I'm still not completely happy with it, but it's the best I can do atm. 
> 
> Lemme know what you think, and Enjoy!

"Dammit, Sam!" came an exasperated yell from the other side of the small hill. Two men came charging over the hill, wildly searching from left to right, one wearing a tan trench coat even though the day was unseasonably warm.

"Sam!" the man called again, his gruff voice carrying through the park. From the pair's right, a dog leaped out from a group of trees. It was a beautiful golden Labrador retriever, who trotted towards the pair of men, his leash trailing behind him, a myriad of multicolored flowers tangled up in the handle.

The dog scampered over to the pair, sitting at their feet and giving a single bark. The shorter man in the trench coat knelt down on one knee and pet the animal, scratching behind its ears and making the Lab's tail beat against the green grass.

"Don't, Cas - Jesus, that's still Sam," the other man said, putting a hand to his forehead, "you shouldn't be _petting_ him!"

"Dean," the kneeling one said, looking at his friend as his hands still moved through the dog's fur, "yes, technically, this is your brother. However, the curse made him, for all intents and purposes, a dog, with the mental capacity and stimulation of a dog. He knows you, obviously, and he seems to remember me, as well as his name, but, until the curse is broken, he is no more human than the poodle we passed earlier."

Dean scoffed, "God, that poodle. Annoying little yip-yip thing."

Castiel looked back to the third member of their party so that Dean couldn't see the smirk that forced its way onto his face, "Poodles are not 'yip-yip thing's. You just don't like that Sam liked it."

He snatched up the end of the leash, roughly untangling the flowers and foliage. "Yeah, well, even as a dog, Sammy can do better."

The Angel stood up as they started walking, first tugging at Sam's leash before the Lab was the one in front, trying to pull his older brother forward.

"And," Dean grunted as he struggled to stay upright against his brother's inhuman strength, "speaking of the curse, we got any plans to break it yet?"

Cas squinted up at the sun, "I'm not sure. Gabriel said he might know of a cure, but I do not know how well his quest is going."

The taller of the two men was jerked forward and practically growled, "Fine -" he roughly threw down the leash. Sam, feeling the pull released from his collar, stopped, his head craning backwards. Dean raised his hands in a shrug, and Sam seemed to realize nothing was holding him back anymore. The Labrador gave a short bark, chasing his wagging tail in a circle before bounding forward to chase the butterflies and bees of the park.

"So basically, Gabriel's a no-show, and we're out of ideas?" Dean concluded.

"Since finding the witch who cursed him proved useless, yes, Gabriel is the last of our choices."

Dean ran a hand over his eyes, "Have I ever mentioned how much I freaking _hate_ witches?" From his pocket, a shrill ring rang out.

The all-too familiar crinkle formed between the Angel's eyes, "Yes. Several times, I believe."

Moving his eyes from the new message on his phone, he shook his head. After all these years, he can't believe Cas hasn't picked up on basic human interactions.

The message on his phone, however, stopped him from making any comment on Castiel's lack of knowledge.

It was from an unknown number, though the message, containing only a few words, made it obvious who had sent it. The message read:

_Warehouse 17, Bridgetown_

_2 hours_

_"No-show" my ass, Dean-o_

Cas stood much too close to Dean to be socially acceptable in order to see the phone.

"Gabriel," was all he said.

Dean closed his phone with a sigh, "Yup." He shoved his phone back into his jeans pocket, taking two steps ahead of Castiel, who simply watched him with confusion.

He turned back, "C'mon, Cas. We gotta get Sam to this Warehouse." He turned back to the park, his steps coming faster and faster until he was sprinting across the park, a steady stream of "Sam!" coming from him.

Cas had no choice but to follow and try to find their third companion.

****

The door to the warehouse opened slowly, grating on the steel floor. Sam scampered in first, slinking in as soon as the door had opened wide enough, his paws clicking with every step. 

It was pitch black inside when Dean and Cas opened the door, but when they stepped in, a string of Christmas lights strung up on the wall lit up. With each step, four lights came on, showing just a bit more of the humongous room and forcing the pair to continue on if they wanted to find Gabriel. 

Sam, of course, went crazy with every new multi-colored light, letting out barks continuously. By the fifth set of lights, Dean was getting a headache. 

"Gabe!" he finally called out, sick of walking in blind. He stopped walking, putting a hand out to halt Cas as well. "We're not walking another step until we know where we're going, you ass!" 

All at once the sting of Christmas lights shot on, along with a spotlight that seemed to come from nowhere. Gabriel was sitting on a pile of crates as casual as if he were in his own home: one leg dangling off the side while the other was propped up on the crate, his arm resting comfortably on top. 

"Well, Dean-o, you just take the fun out of everything, don'tcha?" he said. 

Dean rolled his eyes. Gabriel jumped down from his perch, walking over to Sam. "So this is him, huh?" Sam barked, Gabe hushed him, scratching him behind the ears. "You sure you don't want to keep him this way?" 

"Keeping Sam like this would be unwise," Castiel said. "He would be useless as a hunter, and much harder to travel with." 

"Okay, okay, I'm just asking." 

"Look, can you fix him or not?" Dean asked, trying to subtly pull Sam away from the Trickster. Sam didn't listen, snapping at the leash instead. 

"Of course I can fix him," the Angel said, affronted. "I called in a few favors, cracked a few skulls, but I found it." 

Gabe patted Sam once more before turning and walking further back into the dark warehouse. More lights flickered on as he ventured forward, unearthing an alter against the back wall. It was waist height, a long cloth covering the table, candles dotting each corner. In the center of the alter were a myriad of bowls and dishes, each containing different, unidentifiable contents. 

In front of the alter, written meticulously in red paint, was a symbol large enough that Dean could lay down inside and not touch either end. 

The whole scene was eerily familiar to Dean, who got an uneasy feeling at the sight. 

"Okay, Dean-o, just get Sasquatch in the Triskilion and back away." 

Dean walked Sam forward, having him sit just where the lines joined in the center. Squatting down and laying the leash on the floor, Dean held his hands out towards the dog, taking slow steps backwards to ensure he stayed. Dean stopped just outside the swirling lines. 

Gabriel stared at him, making a shooing motion with his hand. Dean did not move. 

"Brother," Gabe said, turning his eyes to Castiel, "can you keep this moron out of the danger zone?" 

Cas nodded, coming forward with a determined look on his face. He laid one pale hand on Dean's shoulder, moving him back from the symbol on the floor. 

Gabriel nodded to himself, pushing his hair out of his eyes and taking a deep breath. He turned to the alter, "Keep him there, Brother," was all he said. He held a bowl up from the alter, adding a pinch of something from one of the many dishes. There was a small _pop!_ , and Sam visibly stilled. 

His big puppy dog eyes stopped blinking, his golden tail stilled its wagging. Dean noticed immediately, trying to rush forward to make sure his little brother was alright. He was held back by Castiel, who held tighter than one would think by looking at him. 

Dean struggled and cried out to Cas, to Sam, to Gabe, but it made no difference. Gabriel blocked everything out, focusing on the steadily climbing chant, the old syllables coming out awkward with millennia of disuse. One by one the bowls on the alter were emptied, the dishes mixed to form a tacky paste which the Archangel held high above his head. 

The symbol under Sam's paws started to vibrate, the lines seeming to move and shift, swirling through their pattern. The red paint seemed to deepen as it moved, to change from red to black and back again. 

Gabriel plunged two fingers into the paste he had made, drawing two parallel lines on each of his arms, from wrist to elbow, as well as across his forehead. The candles dotting each corner of the alter glowed brighter, their flames licking up higher, the air rippling loudly around them. 

And then, all at once, it was over. The candles were blown out, Gabriel's incessant chanting was done, his throat rough and raw, the painted lines on the floor stopped their journey, looking much like they had minutes before. All that was left from the minutes before were Dean's wailings. 

That, and the still furry Sam Winchester wagging his tail on top of the Triskelion. 

***.*.*.*.*.***

The noise from the shower turned off with a squeak. Sam scampered out of the bathroom along with the first billows of steam. Gabriel walked out next, impeccably dressed in new clothes he sure hadn't had with him earlier, not even one strand of hair wet on his head. 

Gabriel pointed a finger at the dog lounging on the bed, "Why was Sasquatch in the bathroom?" 

Dean shrugged, only briefly looking up from his laptop, "Even as a dog, he's got a thing for hot showers." Gabriel rolled his eyes, balling up his towel and tossing it on the table. Dean wrinkled his nose at it, "Why did you even need to shower anyway? You're an Archangel." 

"I'm sorry, did you _miss_ the part where I spread goop all over me to save your brother?" 

"What is your definition of 'saved', exactly? Because the last time I checked, Sam was still furry!" Dean was glaring at the Trickster, one finger pointed dangerously towards the bed. 

Just at that moment, when Gabriel was less than a second from snapping his fingers and making sure Dean knew _just_ who he was dealing with, Cas flew in. He looked from Dean to Gabriel, taking in the tension of the room, Dean's still raised hand, Gabe's unusually stony face and took steps forward, just in front of Dean's chair but not blocking him. 

Castiel was watching his brother much more closely, probably realizing that out of the two of them, Gabriel was the one who could dole out the most damage, possibly leveling the town if Dean provoked him enough. Which, knowing the Winchesters, was incredibly likely. 

Gabriel gave a slight shake of his head, reassuring the Angel that he could contain himself, Trickster or not. Cas seemed to relax a bit, as much as he can, turning to Dean. The Trickster looked back at him also, an eyebrow raised and a small smirk ghosting his lips. 

Dean slammed his laptop closed, standing up so harshly that, had Gabriel and Castiel been human, they would have jumped. "Cas, let's go get some food," he said, grabbing his jacket and slinging it on. Cas nodded, shooting Gabriel one last look before following the hunter to the door. 

When the door was open, Cas already two steps out, Dean turned around, keys jingling furiously at Sam, who didn't move an inch, simply staring back blankly. Dean stopped, his hand dropping to his side. "Gabe, watch him," he said, "If anything happens, anything at all, I swear to everything you believe in, I'll kill you." 

Gabe rolled his eyes, "Always the big brother." 

Dean sent one more glare his way and the Trickster put up his hands in surrender. The hunter seemed to take that for an agreement, letting the door shut slowly behind him. 

Gabriel was now stuck alone in a sleazy motel room. With a dog. 

The two just looked at each other across the room for a few long moments. Finally, Gabe snapped his long fingers, materializing a soft armchair in place of the table and rickety chairs. 

Seating himself, he pulled from one of his many pockets a candy bar and turned on the television with a blink. 

Halfway through a very enthralling murder-mystery movie, the Archangel felt something wet nosing at the crook of his arm. He turned so fast that the candy almost flew out of his hand, only to see one mammoth, shaggy head making its way through the space between the chair and his elbow. 

Almost as if he sensed Gabe watching him, Sam looked up, letting out a low whine. "What's up, Sasquatch?" Sam just nosed at his elbow a little more, pushing it off of the cushioned armrest. "Bored?" 

Sam barked. 

"Yeah, me too," he stood from his seat, Sam following dutifully behind him as they walked to the far side of the room. Materializing a tennis ball, Sam perked up, his whole body tight as a bowstring, his ears perked. Gabe smirked as he threw it. 

The two played catch like that for a while, in the cramped motel room: Gabriel throwing the tennis ball as far as the room would allow, Sam leaping after it. If Sam was able to catch the ball before it bounced off of the wall and back to the Angel, Gabe would kneel and present the former hunter with a treat. If not, Gabriel would get the ball back and laugh at the Lab's crestfallen puppy-dog eyes. 

This went on for a while, until both Angel and dog tired. Gabriel, having waved away his previous chair and not having the energy to bring it back, flopped onto the large bed, settling himself comfortably on top of the covers. Within a matter of seconds, Sam followed, nuzzling himself right up against the Trickster. 

Gabe flicked his eyes to the golden dog, but made no move to resettle. 

The Angel was just dozing off when he felt a weight pressing down on his right side. Long and slender, it wormed its way over more and more, He opened his eyes to come face-to-face with a bristly ear and long strings of golden fur. 

Sam was slowly craning his body over Gabriel's, his nose slipping into his open jacket. Gabriel was amused when he realized what Sam was trying to do, even staying as still as he could until Sam was finished. 

It didn't take long until Sam figured out how to use pockets and was dragging out dog treat after dog treat, laying them neatly in a row on Gabriel's chest. When the pocket was empty, Sam sniffed at each in turn before snatching up one, chewing on it happily and leaving some crumbs behind on Gabriel. After swallowing the treat, Sam looked up and came face-to-face with Gabriel's rather amused smile; Sam's usually big calming eyes were even more compelling in dog-form, so happy with the small treats. When Sam realized that Gabe was watching him, but doing nothing to stop his sneaky dessert, he continued, devouring the dog treats happily, his long tail whipping against the covers. 

The treats were eaten faster than Gabriel would have thought possible for Sam - for Dean, right on track, but not Sam. Sam-the-Dog was also much messier than human Sam, leaving crumbs and such all over Gabe's chest, his paws wrinkling the shirt and scattering the mess even further. 

In true canine-form, Sam refused to let any part of the treats go to waste, licking up the crumbs on Gabe's shirt, nosing the jacket out of the way and dampening his tee-shirt. The Archangel laughed, his chest shaking under the pressure; it was an odd feeling, a dog's tongue, both wet and dry, sticking to his clothes. Of course, with Gabriel's vibrating chest, some of the crumbs were misplaced, scattering across his torso. Sam followed them, his tongue advancing up his chest, over his collarbone and up the beginning slope of his neck. 

Gabriel's eyes shut, trying to still his chest in order to stop Sam from pawing at him, his small claws digging into his skin through the thin fabric slightly. 

As the Trickster focused on laying still, a peculiar thing happened: the weight half resting on his body seemed to increase, the body elongating to relax more on top of him, the bed dipping further down. The hair that was tickling his chin was still there, but less stringy, almost fluffier; the tongue licking up his collarbone skinnier, not as dry and dragging. 

Gabriel opened his eyes, to see not the golden fur of a Labrador retriever but the oh so familiar brown locks of fully human Samuel Winchester. 

A fully human Sam who was currently still taking a long lick in the area just below the hollow of his throat. Sam didn't seem to realize he wasn't a dog anymore, his eyes closed, his lashes fluttering gently against Gabe's skin. 

The transformation back into his human form changed Sam Winchester back into the person he was just before the witch got to him, though there was one rather large and awkward stitch in that, in which there were no stitches. Turning back into his human form gave him back opposable thumbs and his gargantuan size, but his clothes got lost in translation. He was stark naked, his chest covering Gabriel's, one leg pressed up against the Angel's. 

Which is why, once Gabriel looked down and realized what exactly had happened, and just what exactly Sam was in the middle of, he couldn't hold back a soft moan. 

Sam heard him - how could he not? - and stopped in his tracks, the tip of his tongue maintaining contact with skin. His eyes flicked up for the briefest of moments, meeting Gabriel's golden eyes before snapping his tongue back into his mouth. 

The two held eyes for a moment, until Gabe broke the tense silence, "Well, Winchester, don't stop on my account." 

Sam watched him for a moment longer, taking in the Angel's hooded and intense eyes. Slowly, as if testing the waters, his tongue flitted out, making one wet stripe down Gabriel's neck, watching the Angel's reaction closely. 

Goosebumps raised on his skin, Gabe's eyes rolling back slightly as a moan made its way to Sam's ears. The hunter smiled, doing it again. 

Gabriel arched his neck as his hand wound its way into Sam's long hair, tugging gently, pulling the hunter's face up to meet his. 

Sam pushed himself up, one hand on each side of the other man, their mouths an inch apart. Gabriel licked his lips, feeling every puff of warm breath from Sam. Gabriel waited, watching Sam's eyes flick down to his own lips, tracing the path of the Trickster's tongue with a glance. 

Saying Gabriel wanted to close the distance would be the understatement of the year; every fiber of his angelic being screaming at him to lean up the short distance, but he didn't. If they were going to continue this any further - and Gabriel prayed to his Father, wherever he was, that they did - Sam was going to initiate it. So they stayed like that, feeling the warmth of each other's breathing, Sam's eyes hesitant. 

Finally, Sam's eyes cleared, traveling to Gabriel's lips once more before making a noise in the back of his throat and closing the gap. 

Their mouths met in a sweet and slow kiss, tasting and testing each other. Gabriel moved his hands, which had been sitting like stones on the bed beside him, to Sam's hips, holding on tightly. Sam lifted himself, securing himself a spot more fully on the Angel. Of course, being as how Sam wasn't wearing any clothes, the action made Gabriel lose what breath he had left, his hips unconsciously rolling up. 

At that, Sam broke the kiss, angling his neck away and letting out a quiet moan, his fingers wrapping themselves in Gabe's t-shirt. Gabriel, for all his panting and loss of breath, didn't let such an opportunity go to waste, slathering hot, open-mouthed kisses along the underside of Sam's jaw. 

"Gabe," came Sam's breathy voice. "Gabriel, c'mon." 

Gabriel smirked against pale skin, giving only a hum in response. 

Sam's eyes were closed when he spoke, just relishing in the feel of lips on skin, "Is this.. is this really going to happen?" 

Gabe mouthed his way up to his ear, "You can stop it anytime you want, kiddo. I, on the other hand - " here he gave a small nip, " - have no problem in continuing." 

Sam moaned, his fingers tightening in the other's fabric, "Then," he said, lowering his head down and talking just above the Angel's parted lips, "you are wearing far, far too many clothes." 

The Trickster laughed, bowing his back as he sat to accommodate the hunter's impatient pulls of his jacket. The two fumbled like that for a while, Sam trying to undo the other's belt without losing any kind of contact along their bodies; it took a little longer than Sam was necessarily proud of, and Gabriel might have snickered a bit at him, but eventually the material slipped through the buckle, maybe pulling it from the loops a bit rougher than needed. 

Sam was all impatient hands and rolling hips, his hands traversing the newly revealed skin, running over the taut muscles there. Gabriel enforced his grip on the hunter's hips, rubbing their hips together in a delicious rhythm and thwarting any chance of Sam moving his hands further down than his stomach; the Trickster had all but dragged Sam more firmly onto his body, the long hunter settled just in the niche between his legs, and with his solid hold of the other man's hips, Gabriel made sure there was no room for either one to snake a hand down. 

It was a bit uncomfortable, to be honest, with Gabriel's hard length straining against the confines of his jeans all but begging to be let loose, to be touched, but he wouldn't yield to that particular thought, bit yet. He had a plan. A plan that would have the hunter moaning and writhing underneath him. 

When Sam tried again to swipe a hand unsuccessfully between them, he made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. Gabriel smirked against his lips, nearly jumping when Sam removed his hands, slapping them down on the sides of the Angel's denim clad legs. 

The hunter lifted himself a bit, pulling out of the kiss as his hands slid slowly, purposefully around Gabe's thighs, pressing on the sides of his ass before coming up to the waistband, tugging them. "Take. These. Off," he said, his voice rough and low. 

Gabe just barely repressed the shiver at the sound of the Winchester's voice so deep and primal. "Patience, young Winchester," he said instead, his lips hardly opening. "All in good time." 

But Sam just shook his head, his long hair dangling down to tickle Gabe's cheek. "No, now, Gabe," he whispered. "Need you now." Sam accented his statement with a hard and purposeful rock of his hips, his bare flesh skating down the rough material of his jeans while feeling the whole length of Gabriel. The contact, even one as simple as that, was enough to make both parties close their eyes, Sam taking a sharp breath and Gabe opening his mouth, a soft sound crawling out. 

When Gabe could think clearly again and the burst of pleasure was manageable, he took a deep breath and summoned his angelic strength. In the briefest of moments, Gabriel had their positions switched, the Angel now resting atop the confused hunter, who was not yet used to interaction with his inhuman speed. 

It may be for the better, the Angel mused as he extricated Sam's hands from his hips to hold up by the hunter's head, a fully functional Winchester might object firmly to having his arms pinned, no matter how gently or amicable. 

But, after years of battling monsters and bumps in the night, and both giving and receiving hits, it seemed that Sam was used to bouncing back from just about anything, shaking the dazed, deer-in-the-headlights look. 

Gabe planted a sweet kiss at the hollow of his throat. "Right now?" he asked smoothly, slithering himself further down Sam's lithe body. 

Sam tried to respond, to assent, his jaw opening and closing, but unable to make a sound as Gabe reached his nipples, swirling a tongue around each tantalizingly slow. The hunter's eyes closed gently, his head nodding in long drawn out movements. 

Moving down even more, the Archangel was pleased to note that his breath alone could turn Sam on, the warmth ghosting over skin and raising goosebumps where it landed. He played this game a bit, exhaling softly on a stretch of skin before cooling it down with a more forceful blow. Sam jumped at each change, though Gabe knew by touch that he was enjoying it just as much as he; the hardness bumping his throat and chin reminded him with each movement what he was down there for in the first place. 

His tongue darted out first, tracing the crease of Sam's thigh, feeling the muscles move and flex just beneath the skin. The Trickster, true to his name, continued his wet line, tracing around the other man's cock to copy the motion on the opposite side. Sam let out an impatient whine, wriggling in an attempt to get the Angel's mouth where he wanted it. 

"Sorry, what was that?" Gabriel said, his breath racing over the hunter's most sensitive skin. With every word Gabriel's lips brushed Sam's cock, making his hips buck and his breathing hitch. "Sammy," he called softly, looking up into the hunter's intense eyes. 

It was truly a testament to Gabe's talent that Sam didn't object to the name. Instead he lifted his head, his eyes darkened and said, "If you don't get your mouth on me in ten fucking seconds, we're going to have a serious problem." 

Gabe smirked - he couldn't recall any instance in which he heard Sam curse - and, keeping his eyes trained on the other man, made a swift lick up the underside of his shaft. Sam's breath left him in one gush. He repeated the motion, this time not coming off at the end of the swipe, instead moving his tongue down again, his mouth following suit. 

Swallowing him whole was natural for the Trickster, who was always good with his mouth, but Sam didn't anticipate moving that fast and taking him by surprise; his hips jerked up towards the warmth of his mouth, nearly choking the Angel. Gabe withdrew his hands from Sam's, bringing them down to pin the hunter's thighs to the bed, pressing them gently into the comforter. 

Sam's head thrashed back and forth on the pillow, muttering curses under his breath as Gabe's head started to bob, his tongue stroking and sliding along Sam's length. Crawling up on his knees a little more allowed the Angel to slide one hand from the hunter's thigh to palm his own throbbing erection, still confined in his jeans. 

Hollowing his cheeks around Sam, the hunter reached down, entangling them in the Angel's hair, pulling back gently. 

"Fuck, Gabe," he breathed out, his eyes closed, "Gabe, y'gotta - I'm - fuck." 

Sam had opened his eyes, seeing Gabe not only sucking him off, but also rubbing himself enthusiastically and cut off abruptly, his eyes going impossibly darker, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. "You like this don't you?" he started, "You love sucking me off, Gabe, love showing off your skill. I know - I see it every time you pop a sweet into that pretty little mouth of yours. But they're just practice, huh? Until you can get the real thing?" The hand that was formerly pulling Gabe away was now just resting, not trying to force himself down any more - even if the powerful, angelic being would let him, Sam wasn't sure if he himself could take it - and _definitely_ not pulling away. 

Gabriel hummed around Sam's cock, the vibrations unsettling him in the most glorious way. 

The Trickster didn't let up for a moment, swiping up and down, curling around Sam, tasting and taking and waiting. Sam knew he wouldn't have to wait much longer, could feel the familiar pressure building behind his stomach. 

"You're so fucking good at this, Gabe - fuck, but you know that already. Got a lot of practice, I'm sure; you go down on all your charges?" Sam paused, letting out a gasp as Gabe swiped his slit. "Shit, I bet you do, bet you look for any action you can get. Just can't wait 'till you can wrap those pretty little lips around some guy's cock, can you?" 

From his vantage point, Sam could see the Angel's eyes clench just a bit, could see that his arm not perched on Sam's leg moved more vigorously. 

"You getting off on this, Gabe? On me telling you just how good you are? On just how much you love getting your mouth fucked?" Once more, the Angel moaned, and Sam was pushed that much farther towards the edge. "No, Gabe," he said, and Gabe's eyes opened like a rocket, "don't you go getting yourself off now. Not yet - " he smirked, "Not when there's still so much to do." 

This time, Gabriel's eyes closed, his hand sliding off of himself to come back and wrap around a bit of Sam's dick, his mouth coming up a bit. His other hand squeezed slightly at Sam's thigh, running his nails up and down. He could feel that Sam was close now - if only by the waver and roughness of his voice. Gripping the base of Sam's cock just a bit more firmly, hollowing his cheeks and swiping once, twice, at the head. 

Sam's hands left Gabe, searching amongst the covers for something tangible, going incredibly still, before Gabe felt it. Sam came completely undone, his back arching up off the bed, a low groan coming out of him as he came in Gabe's mouth, the thick spray hitting the back of his throat. The Angel swallowed quickly, making sure that nothing escaped. 

Sam came down after a few moments, to a softening cock between his legs and a smirking Archangel kneeling between his feet. 

"How ya feelin', Samsquatch?" Gabriel said, eyeing him with amusement. 

Sam lifted his head, slamming it down into the pillow, squashing the urge to smile stupidly, "Shut up." 

The two looked at each other fondly before Sam's eyes were averted down; specifically, they were drawn to the impressive tent adorning Gabriel's crotch, the jeans looking like they'd split at the slightest provocation. 

Sam waved a hand, "And get over here." He looked pointedly down at Gabe's not-so-little-problem. 

Grinning lasciviously, the Angel scampered up the bed, coming to Sam's side. Sam watched with hooded eyes, drawing Gabe closer and closer. There were a few inches between the two when Gabe closed the distance, moving his mouth hungrily against the hunter's. 

Sam pushed against Gabriel's shoulder, laying the Angel flat on his back, their mouths staying glued to each other. Now it was Sam's turn to take some control, pushing himself just above the shorter man, trailing his fingers down his stomach, feeling the play of muscles there. Smirking, the hunter relished the barely-contained gasp, not audible from Gabriel's mouth but known by the shallowing of his stomach. 

"C'mon, kiddo," Gabe said, pulling back an bit, "you scared to go the distance? Second thoughts?" 

The hunter bristled a bit at the tease, one hand traveling down to the front of Gabe's jeans, running his palm lengthwise over his dick, reveling in the power the simple motion gave him; the all-powerful Archangel bucked up, a blasphemous curse spilling from his lips. Sam bit his lip, repeating the movement once more before landing on the Angel's belt buckle: it was one of those large buckles, with an elaborate engraving of an eagle, that Sam would dream of adorning cowboys in the Wild West. 

Feeling rather bold, Sam worked the belt buckle one-handedly, sliding the belt through with ease. He looked up to see Gabriel's golden eyes following his hands intently, flicking up to meet him. Lightning fast, Gabe had Sam's face in hand, pulling his down for a rough, demanding kiss as Sam continued his journey, moving on to the button and zipper. 

Gabriel's pants were undone, the Angel lifting his hips just enough for Sam to pull them down to his thighs, his boxers following. Out sprung the Trickster's cock, standing large and proud, making Sam's mouth water. 

"Gabe," he said, dragging his eyes away painfully, "you better be ready for a Round Two. There is so, _so_ much we still have to do." 

At that, Gabe closed his eyes, throwing his head back against the pillow, "Oh, _God_ , yes." 

Sam smirked, closing his hand slowly around Gabe's cock, squeezing it to the base. He set a steady pace, his rough hand dragging consistently up and down, up and down, swiping the head occasionally. 

The two entertained a sloppy kiss, Gabe's hands scrabbling at the hunter's back, breaking off abruptly with a gasp. His hands squeezed at Sam's shoulders as the hunter peppered his jaw. 

"That's right, Gabe," he said, his voice wrecked and rough. "Let it go, baby, it'll feel so good. I wanna make you feel so good." 

"Sam," Gabe choked out, his hips bucking up to meet each stroke, "Shit - Fuck." 

With a longstanding groan, Gabe threw his head forward to meet Sam's mouth, his hands gripping his long hair, puling it roughly. Sam kept up his motion even when he felt the Angel finish, sticky fluid spreading up his arm, covering his hand almost fully, working him through his orgasm. 

The hunter let Gabriel manhandle him a bit as he came down from his high. Secretly, he liked it, being treated like he was the smaller one. Gabriel's angelic strength left no room for escape, but somehow Sam felt utterly safe, knowing the Angel would never do anything to harm him. 

Slowly, their kisses became less rough and demanding, lasting longer, softer until Gabe was running his hands through the hunter's silky hair. They pulled away, Sam flopping back onto the bed, Gabe's arm falling around his shoulder. 

"Fuck, Sam," Gabe said, his eyes closed, a small smile pulling at his lips, "if I had known what you were like in bed, I would've made a move a _long_ time ago." 

Sam let out a chuckle, "Yeah, well, it's never been quite like that before." The Angel cracked an eye open to look at him. "But I meant what I said. Round Two is a definite." 

"Whenever you're ready, Sasquatch." The hunter raised a disbelieving eye to Gabriel's now full-blown smirk, "Angel libido, kiddo. I'm good to go." He flipped a piece of hair off Sam's shoulder as he rolled his eyes. 

Sam turned on his side, leaning in for a small kiss, "That's cheating, y'know." 

"Oh, don't be that way," he cooed. "Angel voodoo has so many more advantages than that. Advantages I'm sure you'll find very.. _appealing_." He licked his lips slowly, which Sam followed intensely. 

***.*.*.*.***

The door banged open while the two men were lip-locked, Gabe's hand cupping the young Winchester's ass as he rutted up against him. There was a small rustle, followed by a thump and finally: 

"God dammit, Gabriel! What kind of fucking ritual _is_ this?" 

The two broke apart at the sound of Dean Winchester, Sam rolling over to face his brother and Angel, a pile of fast food bags on the floor at their feet. Castiel looked confused, tilting his head, but Dean covered his eyes. 

"And for God's sake, Sammy, put on some clothes or a tie on the doorknob, or _something_!" 

Sam blushed the brightest he had ever been, shuffling pillows and blankets over he and the Angel, who relaxed against the headboard, his laugh echoing through the room. 

There were two things Sam Winchester knew for sure: 

(1) He was never going to live this down and 

(2) Gabriel was so going to pay later. Again and again. 

He could hardly wait. 

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> BTW, the Triskelion can be found [Here](http://www.ancient-symbols.com/religious_symbols.html)


End file.
